Tumbling In Progress
by Absolute Despair Girl
Summary: Once Miku goes on Tumblr, she just doesn't stay on Tumblr. She becomes Tumblr. You may die from her idiocy, so be careful. And be careful of her hair, too. "Miku, no."


**So FiniteXS and I did a story trade and both us had to make a fanfiction about Tumblr. You should read his story (take out the spaces though!) : finitewrite . tumblr post / 75222185097 / forged-through-fire-and-tumblr-oneshot**

**If you don't have a Tumblr, or don't really know any memes, this story will confuse you. A lot. Uh, yeah.**

**This was unbetaed, so tell me if there are any mistakes I should fix.**

**EDIT: Thanks Finite for telling me about my mistakes~**

**I do not own Vocaloid or Tumblr.**

* * *

"Miku, no."

That has been a reoccurring phrase from me.

She pouted, sticking out her lips more then necessary. "Aww! Why not?"

I rolled my eyes at her, sick of her nonsense. "You can't go outside to say you like someone's shoelaces and wait for the words 'thanks, I stole them from the president' just to see if someone has a Tumblr."

I didn't really get it myself. How did someone come up with the process to figure out if someone had a Tumblr? Also, why exactly the shoelaces phrase?

"Why not?" She repeated the question again, her lips now pressed together.

"You'll weird people out, the chance of getting that exact response is highly unlikely, and I'll never talk to you," I listed a few reasons, my arms crossed. After a few moments of thinking, I added, "Ever."

Her expression turned into one of stubbornness. "What happens if someone near us has a Tumblr, Piko? What happens if I meet someone who is following me? Oh, what happens if I meet all of my 1,839 followers? What happens if I meet iammyownsound? Or if I meet mirrorsound01? Or maybe even ringringthebell?"

"That's very unlikely," I replied in a bland tone.

Sticking her tongue out at me, she turned her attention back to her laptop, almost hitting me with her hair. Her fingers flew across the black keyboard, and she let out a sigh. "Such sadness. Much disappointment."

I'm pretty sure I groaned for two hours straight after that.

* * *

"Miku, no."

I would have been laughing at her appearance if I was someone who had no self control. Luckily, I was better than that. Maybe.

Her hair was a complete mess. Teal strands of hair were sticking out everywhere, and knots were probably made over the night. Her pink pajama top was missing a few heart-shaped buttons, and if I didn't have any decency, I probably would have been ogling at her like some creepy pervert. Dry drool covered half of her chin and her face was like the living version of the definition of disoriented. I know you look pretty bad when you're ill, but could you possibly look **this** bad?

...Leave Miku to do the impossible.

"Uh, why?" she grunted, which was unusual for her. Damn, the flu hit her bad.

"You're sick. You probably stayed up until 3 AM going on Tumblr again, which isn't _exactly_ the best thing to do when you're ill," I said in a matter of fact tone, "Don't get up. Sleep."

"I want negi though..." she murmured as if she didn't want anyone to hear.

"I'm making you soup, so wait, okay?" I spoke softly, a bit kinder than usual. "I have to feed you though, but that's fine with you, right?"

She ever so slightly nodded, and I walked out of her bedroom to the kitchen. The revolting odor of Miku's favorite vegetable entered my nose, and I almost gagged in disgust. Seriously, how does she even like negi? When I tried it, I thought I was going to vomit all over the place.

I gazed at the bubbling pot of soup. Vegetables such as negi and carrots floating on top of the slightly green soup. Hmm, seems okay enough.

The doorbell rang and I heard Miku shout with a hoarse voice, "That's the prize I won from a Tumblr giveway!"

Before I could even react, I saw a flash of turquoise heading to the door. "Gotta go fast!"

If I was in some gag manga, I would 'face palm' myself. "God damn it, Miku."

* * *

"Miku, no."

"Huh?" Her turquoise eyes stared at my face as she gripped her mechanical pencil.

"You have to answer the question correctly," I deadpanned, hovering over her. My finger pointed towards her half blank, French homework.

"But I don't know the right answer!" She whined, scratching her head in aggravation.

"You can at least look at your notes." I took a closer look at her paper and smacked myself in the face at her idiocy, "...And maybe not use the same answer for every question!"

"That's the only French I know!" She retorted, her voice high-pitched and child-like.

I moaned in agony. Written neatly for almost every question was 'hon hon hon baguette eiffel tower'.

...What the hell does that even mean?

"Oh, wait!" She screamed suddenly, excitement evident in her voice. "I remember something else!"

"Wow. Really?" I asked, a little surprised myself. Could Miku actually remember something from French class?

Furiously scribbling down her answer, she shoved the paper in my face. I clenched her homework in my hand, and shot her a quick glare. I flicked her on the forehead, making her yelp out 'ow!', and looked at the words...

...omelette du fromage.

"That's not even grammatically correct!" I yeled to be 'omelette _au_ fromage' which means an omelette with cheese. And by the way, you're still wronled, throwing her homework back at her. "If anything, it's supposg."

The edges of her lips pointed upwards. "Ouasis quelle que soit."

* * *

"Miku, no."

This time I didn't actually say it. At least, not now. I ended our conversation with this phrase, though.

The blogger was jumpy, that was for sure. A sheet of white paper was in between her hands as she hopped her way towards me, her pigtails flying everywhere. If her hair was a weapon, I'm pretty sure I would have already been brutally murdered.

"Piko~! Piko~!" She sang my name over and over again. It was kind of cute, but I would have never told her that.

"I'm not deaf, you know," I yawned, my hand slightly covering my mouth, "What is it?"

"My story won the Free Write competition in our school!" Miku squealed as if she was fangirling over an anime.

Hold on, when was there ever a competition for writing in our school? Wait, Miku can _write_?

...I wonder why she always fails English class then.

"Good job," I gave her a rare pat on the back, and her eyes lit up like never ending fireworks. "What did you write? An essay?"

"An essay...?" Her expression tells me that she thinks I've hit myself too many times. "Ha! Good one, Piko. But, no. I made a story."

"A story?" Apparently, my childhood friend is an aspiring author. And apparently, I'm a terrible childhood friend because I never knew she liked to write. Huh.

"Yep!" She nodded her head happily, her fingers fidgeting. "Do you want to know what it's about?"

"Sure," I told her, my curiosity hopefully not showing. Even though Miku can be silly sometimes- I mean, _most_ of the time, I know she can make something good when she puts her mind to it.

"Yay! So, it's about this teenager, Eren Jaeger," she stated, twirling a lock of her hair with her pointer finger, "who is sitting outside in the cold when he meets his old teacher, Levi..."

I stopped listening after that. My attention span isn't the greatest, as you can see. Why have I heard these names before? Aren't those names foreign? Then how could I have heard of them before?

Wait.

Oh god.

"Miku..." My voice was steady as I placed my hand on her shoulder. "Did you, um, possibly submit Attack on Titan fanfiction to a contest and win?"

"Uh-huh!" She grinned stupidly, her hands placed on her hips like a diva. "Awesome, right? I was a little worried at first because the story included a teacher and a student relationship, but everything turned out fine!"

"..." I was lost for words. How could she be so dumb?

"You can read it on my Tumblr! Here, I'll send you a link!" She chirped, getting her iPhone out.

We all know how that ended.

* * *

"Miku, no."

I held onto the sleeve of her blouse to keep her from going up to those two strangers, earning another pout from her.

"What? I'm going to do something good!" She winked at me mischievously before trying to escape my grasp, but we both knew she was going to lose this fight.

"Miku, you can't go up to strangers just to say they look... cute together," I said, trying not to blush when I said the word cute. I'm really lame like that.

"Why? The people in the movies do that all the time..." The teenage girl grumbled, crossing her arms together.

"Maybe so, but those two look exactly like," I gestured to the two high school students sitting together in the corner of the cafe.

"So?" She tilted her head to the right, oblivious to what she was trying to imply.

"They're identical brothers, Miku," I sighed, looking her straight in the eye, "If you go up to them and say that, you're implying they have an incestuous relationship."

Out of the blue, a serious expression wiped off the happy one that was previously dead set on her face as if it never came into to existance. "It may seem disgusting to you and maybe to everyone else also, but if they truly loved one another, it doesn't matter what society thinks. Society always judges everyone's actions anyway, so you should probably do whatever the hell you want."

...

I was speechless. It was as if I had forgotten how to talk and only my unspoken thoughts were left. I didn't know Miku could talk like that. Was she even Miku? She sounded like a wise person scolding me for my actions.

"Plus," she leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I ship it."

She sprinted away from my sight, catching me off guard. I didn't even notice I let go of her sleeve.

"You're..." I mumbled quietly so no one could hear me, "You're turning into someone amazing..."

* * *

"Miku, no."

I sat close to her as she was huddles into the corner. Even though she was hiding her face, I could still hear the faint gasps of breath. I could still see drops of water sinking into the floor. I could see her frame faintly trembling.

She was crying.

"What happened?" I cooed into her ear, rubbing her back gently.

"I... um... got anonymous hate..." She tried to sound happy as usual, but her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence. "They said I was stupid... and I sounded bad when I sang..."

Whoever this person was that sent hate mail to her, I wanted punch them in the gut. What a jerk. I really hate to see her like this. If I could make a selfish wish, I would wish to never see her breakdown.

"They're right about one thing," I said, "You're stupid... but you're the good kind of stupid. You're the kind of stupid that never gives up. You're that stupid girl who tries and tries until they succeed. And your voice," I didn't bother hiding my flushed face, "sounds amazing. It's like a radiant light of hope shining out from the darkness of despair. I love it when you sing."

Although hesitant at first, she looked up at me and gave me the tiniest smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Thanks..." She held my hand, scooting a little closer to me. "I was a little over dramatic, so sorry about that."

"It's fine," I told her. "Their opinion doesn't matter. What matters is your own opinion about yourself."

"I know," her voice was only a tad bit above a whisper. "Their message just... hurts. When I read it, I hear my own voice saying those words and that's painful."

"I know," I repeated over and over again. "I know."

* * *

'I finally reached 2,000 followers! Haha, beat that, iammyownsound!'

That post by Miku was the first thing I saw that appeared on my dashboard. I glanced at how many followers I had. The number was a solid 4,000. I could just imagine seeing Miku pout if I showed her the amount of followers I earned over three months. Ah, I could only imagine.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "You still have a long way to go, Miku."

* * *

**The** **first section includes the doge meme.**

**Ouasis quelle que soit means 'Yeah, whatever' in French. Correct me if I'm wrong since I'm not an expert in the language.**

**Attack on Titan is an anime series. It's also known as Shingeki no Kyojin. I also do not own that.**

**I'm not sure if those Tumblr usernames actually exist.**

**Piko is actually a really lame guy.**

**Piko is iammyownsound, by the way.**

**I might write another part to this and make it a two shot, but who knows.**

**Well, I do.**

**Hehe.**

**Bye everyone!**


End file.
